I'm Sick
by Kristen Riddle
Summary: One of the trio only has one month left to live. How will the other two react? A songfic in the 1st chapter. For those of you who like happy endings, check out an alternate ending on my webpage!
1. I'm Sick

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Disclaimer: _Your Eyes_ (the pretty song) belongs to the great, wonderful, spectacular Jonathan Larson and RENT, and if I wrote it, it definitely wouldn't be as good as it is.

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Author's Note: I would have made some miraculous cure, but life doesn't always end happily, and neither does this story. If that's what you want, however, I have an alternate ending which leads up to some of my other stories. Check it out on my website!

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Author's Note for Rentheads: Can you believe I thought of the AIDS part after I had already decided to use this song? And it was totally random, too!

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"I'm Sick"

"I'm sick, Ron," Hermione said softly to him as they sat alone by the lake watching the sun set.

"Whoa," said Ron, backing away suddenly. "Stay away from me!"

Hermione sighed. "No, Ron, not that kind of sick. I mean I'm really sick."

"What?" said Ron, who looked as though he had just been whacked in the face with stone cauldron. "What's wrong with you?"

"I have AIDS. It's a Muggle disease. My mom had it and she passed it down to me. We thought it was gone because they treated it when I was a baby. But it's back."

"Is it fatal?" Ron asked, dreading the answer. Hermione nodded wordlessly.

"How long do you have left?" he asked, hoping - praying - that the answer would be forever.

"One month." The two sat in silence together, listening to the lake ripple and bubble. "I found out last week, but I didn't know how to tell you."

"One month," Ron repeated, still shocked. "That's practically nothing." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your Eyes

As we said our good-byes

Can't get them out of my mind

And I find I can't hide

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat in silence until the sun went down, and then they stayed until it was too dark for Ron to see Hermione still wiping tears out of her eyes. Finally, Hermione announced that she was cold, so they went inside to the common room and sat by the fire. It was a while before either of them could fall asleep that night.

Ron and Harry made the following week one of the best the trio had ever spent together. Hermione no longer needed to worry about exams and homework, so they spent all afternoon talking about their adventures, flying into Hogsmeade on school broomsticks, and recalling all the best moments they had shared.

Hermione soon stopped going to classes all together, as she no longer had any use or interest in the subjects. Harry and Ron, however, were forced to go to class. And so they hurried back to the common room after Transfiguration the next week.

Hermione wasn't there.

"Maybe she went somewhere else," Ron suggested. They looked around all of Hermione's favorite places: the library, the Great Hall, even outside on the grounds. But Hermione was no where to be found.

Finally, after exhausting their searching places, Harry and Ron went to Professor McGonagall's office - hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.

Professor McGonagall opened the door and let the boys in. 

"Professor," Ron said, "do you know where Hermione is?"

Professor McGonagall looked at the two of them, her eyes growing red and puffy. "Miss Granger has gone home," she choked out.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then ran off, back to Gryffindor tower. They didn't have to talk to each other to know where they were going. They both got on their broomsticks and started to fly.

Ron had been to Hermione's house many times before, so Harry followed him there. They landed in the front yard, abandoned their brooms on the lawn, and rushed to the front door.

Mrs. Granger came to the door a few minutes after Ron had rang the doorbell. As soon as she saw them, she let them in. Ron didn't need to ask where Hermione's room was, and he didn't wait for Mrs. Granger to let him upstairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, Harry close behind, and threw open the door to Hermione's room.

"Ron!" she gasped. He ran over to the bed and hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Where else would I be?" Ron asked.

"You should be in school."

"School isn't important to me right now," Ron said. "The teachers will understand if I don't have my homework done."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From your eyes

The ones that took me by surprise

The night you came into my life

Where there's moonlight 

I see your eyes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry went back alone that night. He had no idea how long Ron had stayed, but Harry had done all his homework and had gone to bed without any sign of Ron.

That week, Ron was completely unable to focus in class. He was constantly neglecting his homework and skipped classes to go see Hermione, who was getting worse and worse every day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How'd I let you slip away 

When I'm longing so to hold you

Now I'd die for one more day

'Cause there's something I should have told you

There's something I should have told you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sat sleepily stuffing sausages into his mouth. He was used to eating breakfast by himself - at least without Ron and Hermione. Harry and Ron had been caught flying back to the castle one night by none other than Harry's "favorite" teacher, Professor Snape. But during this rough situation Harry and Ron were attempting to deal with, even Snape was somewhat sympathetic. He let them go with just a warning. However, Dumbledore had heard of the midnight flight and called Harry to his office.

"Harry," he had said, "I know you are seventeen years old, but we both know it is unsafe for you to fly around at night, especially since we don't know where Voldemort is currently hiding."

Even Sirius had some advice, "Please promise me you won't go flying off to visit Hermione alone at night again."

And he had promised.

Harry hadn't even seen Ron for three whole days. And although he did have other friends: Neville, Dean, and Seamus, he wished that Hermione would get better and Ron would come back soon.

And it was on this particular day that Harry happened to notice the tiny owl that flew in the Great Hall window with a scrap of paper dangling to its leg.

Pig flopped down on the table, exhausted from flying so far so fast. It reminded Harry of the way Errol collapsed after delivering a letter.

Harry took the scrap from the owl and opened it.

__

Harry, come quick

Was all it said. It wasn't signed, but Harry had gotten enough owls from Ron in the past six years to recognize the handwriting.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He scooped up Pig in his hand, grabbed his bag and went into the corridor outside the Great Hall. He waited for all the teachers to be out of sight, then he took out his wand and whispered, "_Accio_, Firebolt."

The broom swooped down the marble staircase and to Harry's side; he was getting good at the Summoning Charm. He knew it was against Sirius and Dumbledore's orders, but he mounted the broom and was about to take off when….

"What are you doing, Potter?" came the cold, drawling voice that he knew was Malfoy.

"I don't have time for you, Malfoy," Harry growled, and before Malfoy could say anything more, he shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus!_" and zoomed off while a petrified Malfoy crashed to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I looked into your eyes

Why does distance make us wise? 

You were the song all along

And before the song dies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry rushed into the Grangers' house, broom in hand, where Ron was waiting for him at the window. He had never seen Ron so distraught, so worried, well except maybe when Ginny had been kidnapped and taken into the Chamber of Secrets.

There was no "hi," no "how was your trip," no greeting at all, just, "She's dying, Harry." Harry put down his bag and broom and they climbed the stairs to Hermione's room.

She was much worse off than the last time Harry had seen her. Even though she was at home and not in a hospital, she had all sorts of tubes stuck in her and beeping machines surrounding her bed. She herself was pale; her chest heaved in order to take even the smallest breath. She didn't move as they entered, but her eyes flicked up and met Harry's for a split second.

"Harry," she whispered in a raspy voice, "you shouldn't be here." Ron must have explained why Harry had to stay in school.

"Hermione, always bossing us around," he joked. Hermione gave him a tired smile. In a more serious tone, he added, "I had to come and see you. I don't care what Dumbledore and Sirius say."

Ron went to her and sat on the edge of her bed, light brushing her bushy hair off her pallid cheeks. "I've got something important to tell you, Harry," Ron said. Harry looked at him quizzically. Ron had asked him to come. His owl had sounded so urgent. "We just found out yesterday," Ron continued. "I've got it, too."

Harry let the words sink into his brain. "Then you…?"

"Me," Ron confirmed. "I could die, too."

"No," Harry gasped, but it was hardly audible.

Hermione moaned. She lacked the strength to say anything more.

"Hermione, just hold on," Ron said. "You're so strong; you can fight it."

"Ron…" she whispered. "I love you."

"Oh, God, Hermione," Ron pleaded. "Don't do this! You can't leave me, you can't! I love you; don't go!"

Hermione closed her eyes for a while, but she opened them again, staring into Ron's eyes.

"I've loved you practically since the day I met you. You mean everything to me. And I may not show it, but please don't die. I need you." Ron and Hermione seemed to have forgotten Harry was there, but it was just as well. He didn't want them to see the tears leaking out of his emerald eyes.

Ron, too, was bleary-eyed. Hermione didn't make a sound, but streams leaked silently downs her ghostly face.

Then Ron leaned down and kissed her. Harry had a strange urge to look away. It seemed awkward even though he knew Ron and Hermione had been going out for more than a year now. They must have been kissing then, and maybe even more than that. Was it only a few weeks ago Ron was telling Harry about his secret savings for Hermione's engagement ring?

Ron leaned away. "Goodbye," Hermione whispered. Ron didn't hold back now; the tears were coming strong out of all three of them. The trio would be broken now, down to two. And someday - though Harry prayed not soon - down to a lonely one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I should tell you I should tell you

I have always loved you

You can see it in my eyes

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Ron shook as he stood up from the bed. He turned and faced the corner while he wipes his eyes on his sweater. Harry, too, took this opportunity to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his robes.

"Come on," Ron said. "Let's go break the news to everyone else."

And together, the two of them went downstairs, but a piece of each of them would always be missing.

Hermione.


	2. Break Down

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Break Down

Ron couldn't remember anything else that happened that day. He felt numb; shocked, even though he had known it was coming.

He woke up groggily the next morning and sat there for a long, long while. Maybe if he didn't get up something would happen. Something - anything - to bring her back.

Harry was still sleeping, or so it appeared to Ron. He supposed it looked like he was sleeping, too; he stayed still so no would come and bother him, or see him crying again. Boys don't cry, especially not 17-year-old ones.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Boys," Mrs. Granger called softly. "I know you're awake. It's eleven o'clock already. It's time to get up and face the world."

Ron pulled the covers over his head. He didn't want to face the world, and he didn't want the world to see him - they wouldn't understand. Harry, however, sat up and put on his glasses.

"Come on, Ron," he said. "You can't hide forever."

Ron sighed. Harry was right. And he didn't want to hide forever, just until the pain went away.

"The longer you keep it bottled up inside, the worse it will be when you finally let it out," Harry said wisely. He had been through this kind of thing before. Ron could believe him, trust him. And so he got up and they went downstairs to the kitchen.

Everyone was sitting in the living room, quietly talking. Ron recognized Hermione's father, but not the others - they were probably relatives he had never met. They all had red, puffy, watery eyes and looked like they hadn't slept either. But tears were gone now; they were just talking about the good times.

Ron didn't want to hear about it, so he was grateful when Mrs. Granger called he and Harry into the kitchen.

"I know you're probably not hungry, but I want you to eat something," she said, placing a platter of biscuits on the table as the two boys sat down.

Ron _wasn't_ hungry, but he had to humor Mrs. Granger. _This is hard for her too_, he had to keep reminding himself. _I'm not the only one who loved Hermione._ He plucked a biscuit from the plate and began to pick off miniscule bits, which he rolled into balls and slowly choked down.

"By the way," Mrs. Granger continued. "This letter came for you early this morning." Ron and Harry looked up. "It's addressed to both of you," she explained. "You know, I still can't get used to this 'owl post' idea." She chuckled a little as if unsure weather to laugh or make jokes during this time of grief. She put the letter between Ron and Harry and joined the others in the living room.

"It's from Dumbledore," Harry said, looking at the letter.

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"I recognize the handwriting."

Ron picked up the letter and opened it, reading out loud to Harry.

__

Harry and Ron,

I am very sorry about the loss you both have suffered. However, it is imperative that you both return to school immediately. Harry, you agreed not to sneak off to Miss Granger's house, however, under the circumstances, you did the right thing and there will be no punishment. I'm also aware that you, Ron, have been skipping school and not completing school assignments for the past two or three weeks. However, this will also be overlooked.

I will tell everyone of Miss Granger's death after you both have returned. I am advising you to travel by train instead of your usual methods. I know you are very responsible, but you have a bad history with flying methods of transportation. Of course, Voldemort is always a worrying factor to consider, especially for you, Harry.

Enclosed you should find two tickets on an afternoon train heading towards King's Cross Station. From there, transportation will be arranged. I hope to see you both at school again by tonight.

Dumbledore

"We have to go back, Ron," Harry said.

"Not yet," Ron said. 

"But Dumbledore said…"

"I know," Ron sighed. "But I just can't. I guess we have no choice."

So they said good-byes and thank yous to the Grangers, shedding a few more tears, and then they were off. Mr. Granger drove them to the train station to take back to King's Cross. Harry couldn't believe that the Hogwarts Express would run for just two people, but Dumbledore said he would arrange transportation and made it clear they were not to fly back.

Ron had a bag with him, but Harry, having come in such a rush, had nothing. They had both done a Shrinking Spell on their brooms to make them small enough to fit into Ron's bag so they wouldn't draw too much attention. 

They got on the train to King's Cross. It was a long and silent trip. Rain fell softly outside the train windows, echoing Ron's feelings of sadness. He didn't know how much he had loved Hermione until she was forever gone from him. 

The boys got off the train wondering where to go next, and realized that they were not in King's Cross Station and had only stopped to transfer trains. They walked around the station to another platform, where they had to wait a few minutes for the next train. 

Suddenly, Ron just stopped dead.

"Why'd you stop, Ron?" Harry asked. Ron had been walking ahead of him; now Harry went around to the front and turned to Ron, who looked on the verge of tears again.

"I can't do this, Harry, I can't!" Ron shouted. People in the train station looked at them quizzically. "I just want to go home. I'm never going back to school! I just can't!"

Harry looked around anxiously. "Shhh! Calm down, Ron. You're making people stare."

"God, Harry, I don't know how you can keep going. I can't go back to school. I can't face them again."

"Ron!" Harry said forcefully. "Listen to yourself! Would Hermione want you to give up? Would she want you to stop going to school, stop living your life because of her?"

Ron stared at Harry for a while, breathing heavily and trying not to cry again. "No, she wouldn't. You're right, Harry. I know you're right. But I just feel so…" He couldn't finish because he couldn't describe what he was feeling.

"I know what you're going through, Ron," Harry said reassuringly. "Hermione was my friend, and I know it's not the same but you can't dwell on it."

"I should just try not to think about it."

"No, don't do that. Think about it, but don't think about the bad, think about the good. I know it's hard."

"The good is overshadowed. Every time I think of her, I just think of how I'm never going to see her again." Ron's eyes started to water again.

"It'll take a while, but the pain will heal. You'll never forget her, no, but you'll feel better."

Ron smiled. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled back. "Ready to go now?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

The train pulled in and they got seats near the door. They were only going a few stops over.

The train pulled to a halt at King's Cross. Ron took his bag and followed Harry out of the car.

Dumbledore had said he would arrange transportation, but he hadn't said what that would be. The only tickets in the envelope had been the ones for the train they had already taken. Harry and Ron looked around.

"Maybe we should try platform nine and three quarters?" Ron suggested.

"No, look, there's…Sirius?" 

Harry and Ron walked over to Harry's godfather. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore sent me." Harry was happy to see him, but Ron looked dejectedly at the floor. "I'm sorry about Hermione," Sirius said. "I know how much she meant to you two."

"It's okay," Ron said quickly. "How are we getting back to school?"

"Just follow me," Sirius said, starting to walk towards the exit. Ron looked at Harry, they both shrugged and followed Sirius out of the station.

To their surprise, he led them out to a parking lot and over to a small black car. He pressed the keys to unlock it.

"Hop in, boys," he said.

They got in, still looking at each other questionably. They buckled up and Sirius pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"Umm… does this car fly?" asked Ron.

"Nope," Sirius answered simply.

"So the best transportation Dumbledore could send was a Muggle vehicle?" Harry asked.

Sirius chuckled. "Let's just say it's the only way I can travel without being arrested."

"Are they _still_ looking for you?" Ron asked.

"Well, not really, but if they see me, they do try to capture me."

"But what would they do if they did?" Harry asked. "I mean, there's no Azkaban left."

"They'd probably just kill me on the spot. I don't really want to take that risk."

"No, I guess not," said Harry.

The rest of the trip was quiet. Even thought it wasn't a flying car, there was some enchantment on it that allowed it to go through trees and walls and buildings, somewhat like the Knight Bus. Whatever way they traveled, they had soon arrived at the castle. Sirius transformed into his dog self so that the Hogwarts students wouldn't be able to recognize him. He said a hurried goodbye to Harry and Ron and trotted up to Dumbledore's office while they headed off to Gryffindor Tower. 

The Gryffindor students were all still finishing their last class, and Ron was grateful that the common room was empty. He lugged his bag up to their dormitory, Harry following behind. 

In a few minutes, they heard the bell signaling the end of class - Potions for the Gryffindor seventh years. Soon Dean, Neville, and Seamus would come upstairs. They would bombard Ron with questions - he already expected it. 

"Where have you been?" 

"You missed the Quidditch game." 

He didn't want to face them yet.

Ron had already unpacked, and now he laid down on his bed and drew the curtains around him. Maybe everyone would think he was asleep. 

"I'm gonna go downstairs, Ron," Harry said.

"I'm staying here."

"Okay, see you later."

Ron saw Harry's shadow on the curtain walk out of the door and downstairs. Ron sighed. He had never felt so alone.

It was much later, Ron had fallen asleep. He didn't realize how tired he was, not sleeping well for several nights. Dinner was probably over by now. He opened the curtains a crack and looked out. The dorm was empty, luckily. He smiled; Harry must be keeping them away for a while. Ron would have to go to classes tomorrow, then he couldn't avoid them. Harry was a great friend for doing this. Ron was lucky he had him.

It was a little bit later. He had dozed off again, he supposed, but he couldn't remember it. He heard footsteps on the stairs and voices, so he opened the curtains.

Neville, Dean, and Seamus stopped talking as soon as they saw Ron staring at them.

"Hi, Ron," Seamus said cautiously.

"Hi," Ron replied.

"We're sorry about Hermione," Dean said. "We know you two were really close."

Harry came up the stairs behind the other three Gryffindors.

"So I guess Harry told you about that, did he?" Ron snapped.

"Ron, I…" Harry began.

"You don't have to explain, Harry. You can just blab my business all over the school. I don't really care! You know I probably don't have any feeling left in me anyway!"

The other three boys goggled at Ron. He turned on them next. "What are you three staring at? Whoopee! You're sorry. Sorry doesn't bring her back!" With that, he closed the curtains and lay face down on his bed, sobbing. 

"I think we better just leave him alone," Harry whispered to the others. They got ready for bed, and soon it was silent in the room. 

Ron flipped on to his back and looked up at the ceiling. He had stopped crying now, but his face was still wet. He was cried out; only dry sobs would come now. He hated himself. Why did he have to go and yell at his friends, especially Harry? He hadn't done anything wrong. Ron didn't want to take out his sadness on the others. They didn't deserve that. But he didn't know how else to handle it. 

* * *

Sunlight filled the room, and even with the curtains drawn, Ron could see it. He sat up and pulled them open. Harry was still there, getting dressed; the other three were already down at breakfast.

"I'm sorry about last night," Ron said quickly. 

"It's okay. I shouldn't have told them."

"No, you didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay," Harry reassured him. 

"We're still friends then?"

"Of course. But I think we missed breakfast."

Ron smiled and Harry smiled back. "I'm not too hungry anyway," Ron said. "But what class do we have now?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said looking at his schedule.

Ron groaned. "I don't know if I can face the Slytherins today."

"Come on, we'll get through this."

And they went down to the grounds to Hagrid's Hut.

* * *

There were only a few days until Christmas break. Ron had managed to get through the past two weeks without too much incident. He didn't sleep or eat much, but he was getting better. He didn't think about her all the time, mostly when he was doing his homework.

"Ron, do you know seven potions that powdered unicorn horn is used in?"

"I don't know. Ask Hermione…" Only in mid sentence would he realize that Hermione was no longer around to ask.

Ron had struggled a great deal to catch up since he had missed two weeks of school and hadn't paid attention in class since he had learned Hermione was sick.

Ron debated a lot about whether to go home or stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. He hadn't told any of his family members about Hermione, except Ginny, who heard from Dumbledore. Hermione had been one of her best friends, too. And even Ginny didn't know about Ron being sick, too. He dreaded having to tell his family, but he knew he would have to eventually. 

Staying at Hogwarts seemed a much better idea; everyone would be going home for the holidays and there would be no one there to bother him. On the other hand, he had to work on homework, and teachers kept on trying to console him. He was tired of it. 

He knew Harry would really want to go back to the Burrow and see the Weasleys, especially the twins. Ron knew this was his only chance to see his family. So he decided to go home for the holidays. Maybe it would cheer him up a little.

* * *

So on Christmas Eve, Ron, Harry, and Ginny found themselves getting off the train at King's Cross Station. Mr. Weasley picked them up there in his new car. Ron couldn't believe how lucky his family had been in the last two years. 

"Hello everyone!" Mr. Weasley called cheerfully.

"Hello," everyone answered cheerfully back. Ron had told Harry and Ginny on the train that it was better to put on a mask until he told them the news. He hadn't even told them Hermione was sick, after all. 

They were soon back at the Burrow. It was much more empty now that all five of Ron's older brothers had moved to their own houses. Ron and Harry went up to Ron's room to dump their stuff.

"Oh, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said when they came back down. "I didn't know you were coming. Ron didn't tell me, but I assumed you would be here. Is Hermione coming at all?"

"No," Ginny said quickly with a sideways glance at Ron. He looked away, not wanting to hear any mention of the name.

"Well, the others should be here soon," Mrs. Weasley said. "They are staying the night so we can all have Christmas morning together."

And soon enough, all the rest of the Weasleys arrived. First came Fred and Angelina and George. They had closed Weasley's Wizard Wheezes early for the holidays. Angelina and Fred were planning to get married during the summer. Ron wished it would be him and Hermione, too.

Next came Charlie, then Bill, and Percy, Penelope and their infant daughter, Erica. The house was crowded even more than usual, and they crammed into the bedrooms for the night.

The next morning, they opened presents, had a huge breakfast (which Ron didn't eat and caused Mrs. Weasley to ask what was wrong, to which he answered, "nothing"), and sat in the living room, chatting and trying out their new presents while all the women made dinner in the kitchen.

Before they knew it, it was time for dinner, and time for Ron to spill his secrets.

First, Mr. Weasley made a toast. "To our family. I'm just happy that we can all be here together and healthy."

Harry looked quickly at Ron, who again looked away. They clinked glasses and dug into platters of turkey, potatoes, and rolls. 

Harry nudged Ron several times during the meal. "When are you gonna tell them?" he finally asked.

The chatting ceased and everyone looked at Ron. "Tell us what, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ron looked around at his family. He swallowed hard. "I have some bad news," he began. His family gazed even more intently at him now. He turned to Harry. "You tell them," he whispered. "I can't."

Harry scowled at Ron. Harry shouldn't have to tell them, but Ron felt that if he had to relive the story he would break down again. Harry was more experienced at replaying painful scenes.

Harry faced the rest of the Weasleys. "Hermione died last month," he began. Ron probably would have preferred he ease into it a bit more, but he had asked Harry to do it, and now he had to live with it. The family gasped. 

"What?"

"How?"

"She died from a Muggle disease called AIDS."

It was silent. "Tell them… you know," Ron whispered to Harry. 

Harry looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know."

"Just tell us already," George said.

"Oh alright, fine!" Ron said. "I have it, too."

Even Ginny looked surprised at this. "You? Dumbledore didn't tell us…"

"Dumbledore doesn't know," Ron said.

"So you're going to die, too?" Ginny asked, in a voice barely above a whisper. 

"Well, it's possible. See, AIDS is caused by a virus, HIV, and that's what I have. It doesn't necessarily mean that I'm sick or that I'm going to die." 

It was silent until Bill took a bite of a roll and turned into a canary. 

"I guess this isn't a good time to say that we put a couple ingredients from the Canary Creams into the rolls we brought," said Fred.

Bill molted back into himself and fell back into his chair with a thud.

And Run burst out laughing. Everyone looked at him. Ron hadn't laughed in two months. Soon, Bill started laughing, then Fred and George, and soon everyone was laughing so hard they were crying.

And for once, Ron didn't have to hide it. 


	3. The Hospital Wing

****

The Hospital Wing

"Are you sure you don't want to come downstairs?" Harry asked, standing in the doorway. "I hear Dean and Seamus are setting off the last of the Filibuster Fireworks they got for Christmas." A large exploding sound was followed by the rattling of the walls.

"I don't want to," Ron replied. "I don't feel well."

"Ron…" Harry said. "You _really_ don't feel well?"

"I swear! I have a headache, and those explosions aren't helping much."

Harry's tone turned from disbelief to concern. "Want me to tell them to stop?"

Ron smiled. "You can try. Thanks, Harry."

Harry clomped down the stairs and Ron drew the curtains around his bed.

A few minutes later, Harry and the other boys in the dormitory came upstairs.

"Are you guys stopping?" Ron asked, peeking through the curtains. 

"Yeah," Seamus answered. "It's okay. We were getting tired anyway." Within a few minutes, all the boys had settled down for the night. Ron, too, fell asleep fairly quickly.

* * *

Ron woke a few hours later, coughing uncontrollably. He lay in bed trying to fall back asleep for a while, but he couldn't get comfortable. Soon, he was coughing so much that Harry whispered, "Ron, are you okay?" Ron was about to answer, but he had to rush to the bathroom before he threw up all over the bed. Harry sat up, but didn't do anything. The others were apparently still asleep. 

Ron went back to be, but he had to keep getting up and running to the bathroom. After doing this several times, Harry came over to him and asked, "Want to go to the hospital wing?"

Ron nodded, scared to open his mouth. Harry escorted him downstairs and led him to the hospital wing, leaving Ron there for the night. He had almost thrown up on the way, and now he made a mad dash for the sink. Madame Pomfrey shooed Harry back to bed and gave Ron a potion to help him sleep. The potion tasted awful, but by the time his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.

A few hours later, Ron woke again. Before now, the hospital wing had been empty except for him and two giggling first years who were faking sick so they would miss a Transfiguration exam. Now, he saw Madame Pomfrey tending to another patient in the bed next to his. He couldn't see who it was; he could only hear coughing and Madame Pomfrey saying, "Couldn't have waited until you got to the sink…." He fell back to sleep, not worrying too much about it, and the potion's effects were still pulling him into a deep sleep.

* * *

Ron woke groggily the next morning. He pulled back the curtains around the bed, curious about who had come in late last night. He looked to his left and looked at the student next to him.

And he was staring into the pale face of Draco Malfoy.

"What are you staring at, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered. 

"Just seeing who was there."

"Well, mind your own business. What are you doing here anyway? Faking sick so you won't get in trouble?" 

"In trouble for what?"

"You know…. You and the Mudblood in the broom closet."

"Don't you dare insult her!" Ron half-shouted.

"How are you going to stop me?"

"I'll hex you so bad…." Ron reached towards the bedside table for his wand, but it wasn't there; he had left it in the common room.

Malfoy laughed coldly. "You don't have your wand."

"And neither do you. We're even." Malfoy scowled at him. "Now you take that back!"

"Fine!" he snapped, to Ron's surprise. Ron looked at him wondering, _what's up his sleeve?_ But Malfoy didn't say anything, and Ron, thinking he had won this battle, tried to go back to sleep.

Just as he was about to drift back asleep, he heard mumbling.

"I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"What?" Ron asked groggily.

"I said I'm sorry about you girlfriend."

Ron turned over and glanced at his nemesis warily. "Oh, yeah. Why?"

Malfoy was silent for a while, pondering whether to tell or not. "I have it, too," he said finally.

"AIDS?"

"Well, I'm HIV positive."

"How did _you_ get a Muggle disease?"

"Well, it's an STD isn't it? How did _you_ get it?"

"How did you know?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Your girlfriend's got it; so have you."

"You still didn't answer me," said Ron, phased by Malfoy's use of logic.

"You know that girl, Hannah Abbot?"

"A _Hufflepuff_? And a half-blood! You, who always goes around like-"

"Shut up!" Malfoy commanded. "Look, I'm not proud of it."

"And what about your girlfriend, Pansy?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"You cheated on her?"

"She cheated on me. Besides, she won't even come near me now that she knows."

"Who else you been sleeping around with?"

"None of your business, Weasley!"

"I'm making it my business!"

Malfoy snorted. "Fine, if you must know, it's-"

"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey called. "It's time to take your potion." She bustled over to the bed and put down a goblet filled with a frothing purple liquid. Malfoy stuck out his tongue, and the nurse took this opportunity to pour the potion down his throat. He choked and spluttered, and she walked away with the empty goblet.

"Who is it?" Ron asked more forcefully. 

"Minnie," Malfoy coughed.

"Minnie?" Ron repeated. "Who's that?"

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Not Minnie, you prat, Ginny! Your sister."

"What!?" Ron exclaimed. "After all you've ever said about my family! You and Ginny?"

Then a thought hit him. "She didn't tell me she has-"

"She doesn't know," Malfoy interrupted. 

"You have to tell her. You'd _better_ tell her!"

"I will. I just haven't gotten the chance yet."

It was quiet, but Ron could practically hear his blood boiling. Ginny and _Malfoy?_ How could she? Ron only spent a few minutes thinking on it, however, before he fell asleep.

* * *

By the time Ron woke again, it was dark in the Hospital Wing. His pounding head hurt so bad, he had almost forgotten about Malfoy and his little sister, when the door clicked opened and Ginny entered. She tiptoed to Malfoy's bed. 

"Ginny," he whispered. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. I couldn't sneak away."

"I understand." She leaned down to kiss him when Ron opened the curtains and Ginny saw him out of the corner of her eye.

"Ron! I thought you were asleep! I'm sorry, I should have told you about us. You're not mad are you?"

"Mad? No, I'm not mad. I don't have enough energy to be mad." He sunk back into the pillows, meanwhile giving Malfoy a meaningful glance.

"Ginny, I have to tell you something," Malfoy muttered. 

"What?"

"I'm HIV positive, and you have to get tested." 

She stared at him, hardly breathing. "No, not you too," she gasped. "First Hermione, then Ron, now you?" The tears forming under her eyes glistened in the moonlight.

"Ginny…." Malfoy whispered, but she fled, out of the Hospital Wing and back to the common room.

* * *

Ron didn't know how he could sleep, with all that was going on. But he was so exhausted that he could only bear to stay up a few hours at a time. By the time he woke up next, it was midmorning. 

Madame Pomfrey had sent the giggling first years back to class just in time for their exam, and now he was alone with Malfoy. 

"Ron," someone murmured, and he looked around to see who was calling him by his first name. To his surprise, it was Malfoy.

Ron didn't make a sound, so Malfoy continued. "I'm sorry about all the things I've done to you."

"You're sorry?" Ron cried in disbelief. 

"Yeah. You and me, we're not so different. So what, my family's got more money than yours? I love your sister more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life, and I don't care what her background is like. I just…." He trailed off, coughing uncontrollably.

"For Ginny's sake, I hope you don't die," Ron said. "Wow, I never thought I'd hear myself saying that."

"I hope you don't, either. For her sake," Malfoy wheezed.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ron realized that Malfoy was actually a pretty good friend, as long as no one else was there. If Harry or one of Malfoy's Slytherin buddies came to visit, he would put back on his "evil guy" act, but other than that, they could talk freely.

The school had owled home to tell them off Ron's illness, just to make sure they were aware, and Ginny had written home to tell them that she was going to get tested that weekend. So a couple of days later, an owl flew into the Hospital Wing for Ron.

"It's from my mum," Ron told Malfoy. He read it out loud.

__

Dear Ron,

We're sorry to hear that you've been sick. We've all been very worried about you since you were here at Christmas. We all hope you will get well very, very soon.

I don't know if you've heard, but Ginny wrote home to tell us that she might be sick, too, from her boyfriend. She didn't say who it is, but I'll be sure to send him a Howler when I find out.

"Great," Malfoy muttered.

__

Feel better, and we're all praying that you - and Ginny - will be well soon. 

Love, 

Mum (and the rest)

Ron sighed. When Ginny went to London this weekend, he would be praying, too.

* * *

Later that night, Ron woke yet again to the creaking sound of the Hospital door being opened by Ginny. She went to Malfoy's bed. 

"How are you feeling, Draco?"

"Alright."

"I'm leaving tonight, but I'll be back on Sunday. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too." They leaned together and started to kiss.

"Hello!" Ron exclaimed. 

"Sorry, Ron," Ginny whispered. "Well, I have to go. Take care of yourselves!"

"Bye, Ginny. Good luck," Malfoy said. Then she was gone. 

* * *

Ron couldn't remember that Saturday too well. He was starting to feel a little better, and he didn't need to sleep as much now. Harry had brought him his homework and Malfoy's friend had brought him his, and they struggled through it together.

By Sunday, Ron was awake enough to be worried about Ginny. She didn't come up to the Hospital Wing all day; he was sure she would when she came back, at least to see Malfoy. But night fell and she still wasn't back. And Ron fell asleep when it got past midnight.

He had been dreaming about the time by the lake when Hermione had first told him she was sick, when he felt a jolt and woke suddenly.

It was Ginny, bouncing on his bed. 

"What are you so happy about?" Malfoy yawned.

"Guess what, you two?" Ginny asked, smiling.

"What already? It's the middle of the night, Ginny," Ron grumbled.

"I tested negative!"

The boy's faces lit up and Ron was fully awake. "That's great!" they both exclaimed. 

"But I have to go do my homework now; I'll come back and see you tomorrow."

* * *

By Monday afternoon, both Ron and Malfoy were released from the Hospital Wing and sent back to class. They didn't get to see each other alone much, which meant they couldn't be friendly to each other, but whenever Malfoy insulted Ron in the hallways, he would wink, and whenever Harry tried to hold Ron back from hurting him, he wouldn't struggle too hard. And Harry wouldn't find out about Malfoy and Ginny for quite some time. 


	4. Graduation

****

Graduation

Hermione was still gone; Ron could never convince himself completely that she wasn't coming back. But for her sake, he had to keep going. Sometimes he thought about quitting school, and then Harry would convince him to stay. Only four months left, only three months left, only two months left. 

Ron had nothing left to do now, so he would often sit in the common room for hours doing his homework and doing it well. Despite all the class he had missed, he reached the head of his class. Graduation was soon, one month left.

They were in Transfiguration again. Ron was turning into Hermione. He took notes like a madman and knew the answer to every question. It seemed as though he had filled the empty places in his soul with random facts and trivia. 

They had taken the N.E.W.T.s last week. And their name did them justice: they were both nasty and exhausting. Ron had spent the whole two days before studying and he actually did quite well. Now they were only in class because the teachers didn't want every seventh year wandering the halls all day.

Professor McGonagall was nice enough not to give them any work, so she was instead making them practice Apparating. No one could Apparate to get inside the castle, but once you were already there, it was possible to go short distances. Ron was going to take his test when school got out. He was actually pretty good at it, but the wizarding laws said you had to be supervised when practicing before you passed the test. People kept on appearing and disappearing in different areas of the classroom, except Neville, who kept on coming in through the door when he Apparated into Professor Trelawny's room.

The bell rang and the students Apparated back to their desks to collect their belongings. "Oh, Mr. Weasley, can I see you for a minute?" Professor McGonagall called. 

"Go ahead, Harry," Ron said. "I'll see you at lunch." Ron took his bag and walked up to Professor McGonagall's desk. 

"Mr. Weasley," she said when everyone else had left the room. "I'd like to congratulate you on your excellent score on the N.E.W.T.s. You got 112%! Not quite as well as Miss Granger would have done, but still the highest grade of all the seventh years!"

"Umm, thanks."

"That's not all. The student who receives the highest grade is supposed to give a speech at the graduation ceremony."

"I - I have to give a _speech_?" 

She nodded. "You'll need to submit it to me or Professor Dumbledore by the day before the ceremony. That means you have a little over a month." 

* * *

Ron sighed and looked up at the trees. It was particularly windy today, and he was shivering in just a T-shirt and jeans. He looked up at the castle, trying hard to think about anything but Hermione. After all, he only had one week left to write his speech and he had no idea where to begin. The only thing that stuck out in his mind from the last seven years was her death, and he couldn't write a speech about her. 

Harry ran up behind him, struggling for breath. "Ron!" he gasped. "I figured you'd be out here." Ron didn't slow his pace, so Harry walked quickly behind him. He had to take large steps to keep up with Ron, who was good six inches taller. "Don't you want to come in for dinner?"

"In a while," Ron replied.

"You working on your speech?"

"Trying - I can't seem to think of anything important to say. What do you think I should say?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm no writer."

Ron shook his head. "Come on, it's cold. Let's go in and eat."

So they did, and after dinner, Ron involved himself with a game of Exploding Snap with Dean and Seamus. The speech was forgotten in the back of his mind.

And so it went for days like this. The seventh years had no more to learn and there was no homework, but Ron kept neglecting his speech.

Finally, it was two days before graduation. Ron sat down in the common room, a blank piece of paper spread out in front of him. Even when Neville challenged him to a game of wizard's chess, he declined. He _had_ to finish the speech and give it to Professor McGonagall before the end of the next day. He sat at the table, pondering and reflecting on the years past. The common room emptied. Even the last procrastinator finished studying and went to bed. But Ron still sat there. He glanced out the window and saw the full moon beginning to sink into the horizon. It was almost morning and he still had nothing.

By the time Harry came down the next morning, Ron was asleep at the table, his head lying on the blank sheet of paper. Harry shook him awake.

"What is it?" Ron mumbled.

"It's breakfast time," Harry answered.

Ron sat bolt upright. "Oh, no! I fell asleep without finishing the speech!" He groaned. "Oh, now what am I going to do?"

"Why don't you just wish everyone good luck in the future? It doesn't have to be long. The ceremony will last for hours anyway."

"You're right." Quickly, Ron gathered his things and they went down to breakfast. Ron jotted down his idea as Harry ate. Ron hardly ate anything anymore - maybe a bit of dinner, but that was all. He had lost weight. He was sick, but he didn't know if it was from HIV or grief.

During the break that day, Ron headed down to Professor McGonagall's office and handed her his draft.

__

My fellow classmates, congratulations on making it to the end of seventh year. It's been a long and hard journey with sleepless nights of homework, seven different Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, and a few burns from Blast-Ended Skrewts.

But we finally got here. But the important thing is the future. What are you_ doing in your future? Working, starting a family, playing sports?_

The future is very important because if you don't know where you're going, you'll probably never get there.

The speech went on like this for two more pages, so naturally, Professor McGonagall loved it. 

"This is wonderful," she said, handing it back to him. "Why don't you practice reading this tonight so you'll be ready tomorrow morning? And don't worry - I'll just call you up when it's time to speak."

Ron took his speech back to Gryffindor Tower and read it over a couple of times. He turned in early - he hadn't gotten much sleep last night.

And finally it was graduation day - their last day at Hogwarts. They all dressed in their best black robes and pointed hats and sat alphabetically in chairs on the stage that had been set up in the front of the Great Hall. As they filed in quietly and orderly, Ron spotted his parents sitting out in the audience. To no one's surprise, the Dursley's hadn't shown up to congratulate Harry.

Ron didn't listen as Professor Dumbledore made a speech and he didn't listen as each of the Heads of Houses said their bit. But finally he was drawn out of his stupor when Professor McGonagall announced, "And now, I present to you Hogwarts' top scorer on the N.E.W.T.s with 112%, Gryffindor Ronald Weasley."

Ron's stomach lurched as he stood up and his paper crumbled as his hand clenched it. Professor McGonagall smiled at him as he walked to the podium. "Don't be nervous," she whispered.

Ron took a deep breath and spread his papers out on the podium. He cleared his throat, looking out at the audience. 

And in the crowd, he spotted the two people he had least expected: Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Suddenly, he thought of the perfect speech, and it wasn't what he had written in front of him.

He looked up at everyone, a puzzled expression on his face. Then he picked up his speech, crumbled it up, and tossed it behind his head onto the stage floor.

People began to chatter, and Ron could hear Professor McGonagall gasp loudly.

"I don't deserve to be making this speech," he began, "but I get to because I got the highest grade on the N.E.W.T.s, which supposedly makes he the smartest kid in my class. But I'm not the smartest or the hardest working - no, that was Hermione Granger. 

"Hermione should be making this speech. But she can't. She's dead. She died from AIDS. Most of you don't know what this is because it doesn't affect you. But anyone with a Muggle background knows - AIDS is a disease that affects your immune system and makes you unable to fight off simple diseases like a cold or the flu. 

"But this speech isn't about Hermione. It's about graduation. Sure, I still get depressed when I think of her, but life goes on. Many of us will be going on to jobs at the Ministry or at schools or playing professional Quidditch. But Hermione won't. Me? When I imagined being out of school this time last year, I thought about proposing, getting married and settling down. But that dream is gone for me now.

"I don't really know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life; some of you probably don't know either. So here's my advice to this year's Hogwarts graduating class: live life to the fullest because you never know when your life - or a loved one's life - will end. So when you go on with your life, remember this - there's no day but today."

The crowd sat in shocked silence for a moment. Then Professor Dumbledore started to clap, and the whole Hall exploded with applause. Ron looked out at the audience, teary-eyed Mrs. Granger smiled at him and clapped.

That speech was better than anything he had written in two pages.

At the reception, Professor McGonagall came up to him. "Well, Mr. Weasley, that's not quite the speech I expected."

Ron looked down at his shoes, inching their way out from hand-me-down robes that we getting too small for him. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just-"

"It's alright. We all miss her."

Harry found his way over followed closely by Malfoy. 

"Good speech, Weasley," Malfoy said.

"Thanks," Ron replied, smiling.

"What?" said Harry, looking confused. "That wasn't the idea I gave you."

"I know," Ron answered. "But I thought of what I really wanted to say when I got up there and saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger. That speech wasn't me, Harry. I only wrote it because I had to."

"I'm going to find Ginny," Malfoy said. "I think her exam should be over by now."

"Okay," Ron called. "See you later. You_ are _coming, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be there!"

Harry looked at Ron. "What am I missing here?"

Ron smiled. "A lot. I'll fill you in with a short version for now. Malfoy and I spent _a lot_ of time together in the hospital wing - he has HIV too."

"Him, how?"

"He'll tell you if he wants - it's not my business. He and Ginny have been going out in secret for some time now. He's coming to our little graduation party tonight - then Ginny'll break the news to the family."

"And you're okay with this?"

"Sure. Malfoy's not so bad if he's not hanging around with his Slytherin buddies."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You've changed, Ron, you've really changed."

"I've had to, Harry. But I think now I'm going to be alright."

"I don't know if I like it."

"Harry-" But Harry began to walk away. "I'll see you tonight, right?"

"We'll see," Harry replied.

~*The End*~


End file.
